Seeing Things
by ZedPM
Summary: On the train at the end of his third year, Harry receives something other than the letter from Sirius, something better than he could have ever imagined he would.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer – I own nothing you recognise.**

**An – I was listening to Ronan Keating – which is oddly inspirational – and this is what came out of it! I know it's probably not very good but…**

'That's good enough for me. He's mine.' Said Ron happily as he held the tiny owl out for Crookshanks to sniff. Harry watched him, the letters and envelope still clutched in his hand. He was dreading going back to the Dursleys – but at least he had Hogsmead to look forward to, and the Quidditch World Cup, and now he had something close to family for the first time…_and there was something else in the envelope._ He tipped out a tightly folded piece of very old-looking parchment, and another note from Sirius, which he quickly scanned, his eyes widening as he read.

'What is it?' Asked Hermione, as Ron leant over to try to read over his shoulder.

''_Harry – I never got the chance to give it to you before, but when your parents first found out that Voldemort was after them they wrote a note, in case anything happened to them and you survived, and they gave it to me. This is it. I'm sorry I could never give it to you earlier, and remember, whenever you need me, you can write. – Sirius._'' Harry read out breathlessly. A letter. From his parents. _He had a letter from his parents._ He had a Godfather…he had a letter – a connection to his parents – it seemed odd, but it was really…it was the only real connection to them he had…

'Wow!' Said Hermione, eyes round and as big as saucers, mouth open as she stared at the back of the letter in shock.

'Well read it then!' Exclaimed Ron, gesturing at the folded parchment in Harry's lap, which he opened with shaking hands, a lump rising in his throat…

_Hi Harry,_

_I'm not really sure what to put – how often is it you write something like this? But Dumbledore thinks Voldemort might be after us, so me and your mother decided to write this in case…well, you know. I know that for us to have been killed Peter would have had to betray us, and I trust him, but I also know what Voldemort's like, and I know he may well find another way to figure out where we're hiding._

_Padfoot…isn't in the best of moods. He tried to feed you earlier and you threw it in his face – literally –_

_Here there was a lot of scribbling and splattered ink –_

_That was him. He tried to steal the quill. I would change parchment but it makes it more…genuine or whatever…_

_And now Lils is yelling at Sirius – using 'Levicorpus' on a baby is a very idiotic thing to do, apparently. That would be you then. You don't seem to mind that much though._

Harry paused…this really was from his parents…he could barely believe it, he almost didn't want to, in case somehow it turned out not to be true…but it had to be…

_Anyway, explaining what everyone's doing wasn't really why I decided to write this…I just wanted to let you know that one, however you survived and whatever you've done (Quidditch I hope!) me and your mum are proud of you, and two, we love you. And she wants me to tell you that schoolwork's as important as Quidditch – which it's not._

**_He was joking, Harry._**

Here the handwriting changed from a quick scrawl to neat and curly, and Harry knew immediately that it was his mother's.

**_But really – I know it's probably not much compared to us actually being there, but we do love you – and if Sirius is ever driving you mad, just threaten him with ladybirds, he's terrified of them._**

Harry smirked and felt himself go red as he blinked back a tear. He would much rather have read this in private, but he could hardly tell Ron and Hermione that…and he doubted he could have waited until he got back to the Dursleys anyway.

**_Him and Remus said to say hi. Peter's not here but I'm sure he says hi to. _**

**_This letter probably seems very snappy, but like your dad said, how often do you write something like this?_**

**_I'm not really sure what else to say except – once more, we love you, and we're sorry we're not there for you. I hope you're only reading this because James and I survived and showed this to you for some other reason, but I know it's unlikely._**

**_Love _**

_**Mum &** Dad_

_PS – The invisibility cloak's great for nicking food from the kitchens for after-hours parties!_

**_PPS – No, it's not._**

Harry couldn't help but grin. It was just a letter…it was short and like they had said, nowhere near actually having his parents, but it was the closest thing he had…it was something from them…something he had never thought he would have, something he could still barely believe he was holding. Ron and Hermione were waiting eagerly for him to read it out, which he really wasn't sure he wanted to do – he wanted to keep it to himself – but they stuck by him – they deserved to hear it.

He opened his mouth to read it out – maybe not all – but some of it – and stopped. Something else had appeared at the bottom of the page that definitely hadn't been there before. He had no idea how, and for a split second thought he was seeing things, but Ron had gasped too – he had seen it as well.

**_Say hi to Ron and Hermione from us._**

**An – well there you go. That's what happens when you write fanfiction while listening to Ronan Keating. **

**I'll leave you to guess what happened!!**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter

**Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter.**

**An – I wasn't going to do a second chapter, I was going to leave it on a cliff-hanger but you lot reviewed tons and I got inspiration and … here we are! I'm so sorry it took so long and I hope you like it!**

'You might sneer, Ron,' Said Percy heatedly, 'but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products which seriously endanger – '

'Yeah, yeah, alright,' said Ron, and he started off upstairs again. Percy slammed his bedroom door shut.

'Anyway,' Ginny turned back to Harry and raised her voice a little over the shouts from downstairs, 'what where you saying?'

'We read it and then more words appeared at the bottom, didn't they? Look.' He pulled out the crumpled piece of parchment and handed it to her. She didn't know how he had gotten the letter; she had no idea of Sirius' innocence, all they had told her was that a friend of his parents had sent him a letter from them. Her eyes flew straight to the bottom of the page and widened with shock,

'How -?' She started to say, glancing at the three of them and back at the letter – how was that possible? Harry's parents were dead, how could they -?

'I don't know.' Said Hermione, looking frustrated, 'I tried every book I could think of, I even got my parents to take me to London – so I could look in Diagon Alley – but there was nothing on _anything_ that might make it possible for d – for people who…for…' She faltered and looked nervously at Harry,

'It's ok, Hermione.'

'What about Dumbledore? We could ask him, he's bound to know, isn't he?' Asked Ron, pushing the door of his orange bedroom open. If Dumbledore didn't know, then no one would.

'Yeah…' Harry muttered. He wanted this solved, he wanted to know how they had managed to…to contact – to do that, he didn't want to wait any longer…not until the end of the holidays, that was too long, he needed to know, he needed to know now. Could they do it again? Was it possible that he could _talk_ to them? Have an actual _conversation_?

'I'm sure he'd come here if you want to know before the end of the holidays,' Said Hermione sympathetically, watching him with a concerned look as if she thought he might get upset at any further mention of his parents.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8

'He'll be here soon, dear.' Said Mrs Weasley kindly when Harry checked his watch for the third time in under a minute. Dumbledore had agreed to come straight away, but what if he didn't know how they had done it? Was there anyone else they could ask? Surely Hermione could find a reference in some obscure book she had found in the library, but what if she couldn't? Would he ever find out how they had managed it?

At that very moment there was knock on the door and Harry practically knocked Molly flat in his rush to get there,

'Hello Harry.' Said Dumbledore quietly, watching him with his twinkling blue eyes; as always giving the impression he was x-raying him.

'Hi Professor,'

'Have you contacted your parents' friend about this?'

'Not – not yet sir.'

'I think you should once I've spoken to you. Could we…?' He looked inquiringly at the three of them and Mrs. Weasley in turn,

'Er…yeah – follow me…' Muttered Ron a little nervously, turning and leading them to his room again. It was surreal, climbing the seemingly endless staircase in the Weasley's house to Ron's bedroom with Dumbledore behind them. Not to mention the fact that he was about to tell them why Harry's dead parents had somehow known about Ron and Hermione and been able to write on a piece of parchment before their very eyes. Excitement and anticipation built up inside Harry as if it was behind a dam, and he was certain it was about to burst.

'Well – do you know how they did it then?' He asked before Dumbledore had even managed to get over the sheer brightness of Ron's decorations. He smiled and Ron's ears reddened.

'I am not certain.' Harry's face fell – why not just tell them he didn't know? Why tell them he would come round and give the impression he would be explaining it when he didn't even know? Would it have killed him to just tell them? 'Though I do have an idea.' Harry sighed with relief. Why not start with that?

'And that idea is…?' Prompted Ron, earning him a not-so-subtle stamp on the foot and '_Ron!_' from Hermione. Dumbledore smiled again. Worry niggled at the back of his mind – he need not tell them the full story…just knowing what they were would not hurt, surely? No…just a brief overview, so they understood…they were still too young, far too young, to know other things he suspected about Horcruxes. Not that this was really…he was digressing. A simple, brief explanation – one that bore little or no relevance to anything he knew or suspected about Voldemort, especially in connection with Harry.

'Do any of you know what a Horcrux is?' Harry and Ron shook their heads blankly and Hermione frowned. 'I thought not. In short, it is a way for wizards to ensure supposed immortality, though they must kill to do so and they become so mutated in the process I would hardly deem it worth the effort.'

'You're not suggesting –?' Started Harry, disbelieving. His parents – killers?

'No, no, not at all. What I believe happened with that message is a kind of anti-Horcrux – '

'Hang – his parents aren't dead?' Ron blurted out; going red again seconds later and shrinking back as though he would very much like to disappear.

'Yes, I am afraid they are. Though I have never heard of such a thing happening before, and though I do not believe it was intentional on your parents' part, it is in theory possible to make such a thing that you may communicate, in a way, after death, with the living. It requires, quite the opposite to Horcruxes, immense love. Yes, Mr Weasley, love.' He added, as Ron showed signs of interrupting. He looked Harry. His face was so hopeful…how could he be both instilling it and yanking it from underneath him at the same time? It wasn't fair. But nothing that had ever happened to Harry was. 'Do not misunderstand me; it is not a way to speak to the dead…it is difficult to explain satisfactorily. When your parents wrote that letter what they wanted more than anything was for you to know that they loved you, and to be sure you were ok, and so they, probably without knowing it was even possible, created something which would allow them, in whatever place or state of being they may be, to 'see' you, when you most wished it.'

'So – so can they –

'Do it again? I doubt it. The letter was to ensure your happiness, ensure you knew they loved you; to prevent you from feeling you were alone. The message at the bottom was, I believe, merely a way of doing that. It was what they and you wanted above all else in that one moment and that meant that it could happen, to some extent. I do not think it will ever happen again though.'

Harry nodded sadly. He couldn't hide the fact that he was bitterly disappointed; he had, despite his attempts at not getting his hopes up, been desperate for this to mean he could talk to them somehow, but he supposed this was the best he would ever get. It was better than he would ever have thought would be possible at any rate. It was best thing that had ever happened to him and the biggest disappointment of his life at the same time, but this little scrap of parchment was now the most valuable thing he owned.

'It relies on many complicated and hitherto unexplored areas of magic and I doubt very much had they intended to create such a thing they would have succeeded; as I said, it is immensely difficult.' Hermione smiled sympathetically and Ron looked as though he didn't quite know what to do with himself and settled with fiddling with a loose thread on the pillow he was sat on. Part of all of them was doubtful. It seemed ridiculous that just loving someone and wanting him or her to know it could make something like that happen, but other than the theory Dumbledore had apparently heard of, what explanation was there? Simple answer? None. Unless of course every one of them was hallucinating.

Dumbledore's eyes were shining with, Harry realised uncomfortable, what looked very much like tears. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to react. None of it made sense. How could there be ways of communicating with people after the had died, unless they were ghosts? If there really was – how could it be a one-time thing? He wanted more than anything to be able to talk to them, to see them…to finally have an actual family, but Dumbledore had said that it couldn't happen again…even that in itself made no sense. He looked so out of place in Ron's room, and even more so when he considered what he was actually explaining…but even he didn't seem sure…

How could them having wanted him to know that stuff, and him needing it just as much, be all that was required, and yet it was difficult? And it couldn't happen again?

'I understand it little more than you, Harry.' Harry jumped and couldn't help but feel uncomfortably as if Dumbledore had known exactly what he was thinking. Was there really no way of making it happen again?

'Is that the only way it could have happened?' He asked, almost hopefully. Maybe – no, he wouldn't even let himself think that…he couldn't, he couldn't stand to think that even for a second because he knew it wasn't true, he _knew_ it, they were dead, there was no way they were alive…no way.

'That I know of. But I do not pretend to know every magical secret. It is simply a theory I had read of. I have no more idea than you if it is how it happened, but it is the only explanation I can offer. And do not let yourself think that it is _only_ their love that made it happen. Love is capable of a lot of things you never would have dreamed of.' Said Dumbledore, eyeing Harry's scar.

Harry realised, as if some great truth had been revealed to him in that second, that he didn't care how it had happened. It was nice to know of a way it _could_ be possible, but it was enough just to know that something had caused it. Something had meant that, for the first time in his life, he had a memory of his parents, a communication from his parents, that wasn't a Dementor-induced memory of seconds before their death. Even if they were all just seeing things.

An – Sorry, got that last word thing into my head and couldn't help it…hope that wasn't kind of anti-climactic. :S


End file.
